Disclaimer: The characters of
Xena and Gabrielle are the property of Universal and Renaissance Pictures. No
copyright infringement is intended.

Warning: This story is alternative
fiction. Please do not read if you are under age or if it is illegal to do so
in your end of the swamp.

To a very special friend who
traveled with me through this story.

My grateful thanks to Lisa, Inga
and Susan who work as a team to see that these stories meet a high standard
of accuracy.

A final word: The Encounter series
loosely reflects The Rift Arc. I wanted to end this series by taking the uber
characters back to where the trouble all started and see if, this time, the
characters could escape their fate. I've endeavoured as much as possible to
make sure that the facts and cultures described in this series are a fair and
accurate portrayal. I hope you have enjoyed traveling through this series with
me. Because this story interrelates with both the Encounter and Seasons series,
it would be best to read those stories before reading this one.

Gunnul finished her prayers in
the dawn's light and rolled up her prayer rug. She had let her daughter Christy
and partner Jamie sleep in. Normally, the two joined her in prayer but Christy
had been dangerously ill only a few months ago and Gunnul felt Christy should
rest and rebuild her strength even though the puzzled doctors could not now
find a thing wrong with her.

As for Jamie, she wasn't sure
really why she had not called her to morning prayer. Although Jamie was not
Moslem, she always joined Gunnul in prayer if they were together. Jamie could
say all the prayers in prefect Turkish, much to Gunnul's pride. But somehow
calling Jamie to prayer now that they were in England, didn't seem right. They
were in the European world now, not in Turkey, and although Jamie was American
not English, Gunnul felt that maybe Jamie would like to practise the customs
of her own heritage while she was here.

Gunnul slipped silently across
the small bedroom and crawled under the warm sheets once more.

Jamie groaned and rolled over
to wrap Gunnul close to her. "You're cold," she muttered. "Were
you up doing morning prayers?"

"Yes," Gunnul responded,
kissing her partner's forehead tenderly.

"Mmmm, why didn't you call
me?" Jamie muttered from where she had nestled in Gunnul's arms.

"Jamie, do you miss your
culture?" Gunnul asked. "Do you get homesick?"

Jamie's head came up and thoughtful
green eyes looked into worried blue. "Sometimes I miss specific things
and sometimes I get a little frustrated with the attitude of some of the Turkish
males towards women, but my home, my family are in Turkey, so how could I possibly
feel home sick?" Jamie reassured her lover.

"I did not wake you this
morning because I did not know if you wished to honour Turkish and Moslem ways
when you were amongst your own people," Gunnul confessed, looking down
at the bed sheet with a worried frown. "Besides, it is very cold."

Jamie smiled and kissed her thoughtful
lover's bowed head. "My soulmate is Turkish and so for the most part is
our daughter. I wish to be part of that culture. I am proud to be an American
but that does not mean I can't appreciate and enjoy my family's culture. I do
not pray in a Moslem manner when you are away on business but when we are together
I like to do so because it is part of who we are."

Gunnul looked up with serious
eyes but the slight curl to her mouth let Jamie know that her answer had pleased
the Turk. "Tomorrow I will wake you then," Gunnul promised.

"Hmmm, well, it was nice
to sleep in a bit. I was tired after the late flight into Heathrow last night
and sitting for so long always makes my lame leg sore. You are always so thoughtful,
my love, but just one thing...."

"What is that, Jamie?"

"The British are not my
people. Do I lump the Turkish people together with all the Arab nations? I am
not British, although some of my ancestors were. I am American."

"Genetically, we Turks are
only a part Arabic, we have more Greek and Bulgarian blood than Arabic,"
observed Gunnul, with her usual logical precision.

Jamie smiled and kissed the end
of Gunnul's nose. "I love you," she stated.

"I love you too, Jamie,"
Gunnul smiled. The smile flashed across her features changing her classic stern
beauty into radiant delight. Jamie hugged her lover close and thanked God for
bringing this amazing woman into her life.

It hadn't been an easy relationship
to foster. Jamie had been married to Gunnul's brother and had Christy by him.
But where Gunnul had inherited all the fine and noble traits of her family,
her brother Moe had inherited all the weak ones. His substance abuse had made
him unpredictable, unreliable and violent. It had been Moe who had left Jamie
lamed for life after a violent beating and it had been Moe who had taken their
daughter back to Turkey to be raised by his sister, Gunnul. It had been ten
years later, when Jamie had accepted Gunnul's invitation to visit Christy that
they had met in open confrontation. Gunnul had believed Moe's lies that Jamie
was a prositute and Jamie had believed that Gunnul was a drug lord and kidnapper.

Jamie giggled. "What is
so funny?" Gunnul asked.

"I was remembering the first
time we met," Jamie confessed.

Gunnul felt the heat rising up
her neck. She had not acted very nobly that first day. "I am sorry, Jamie.
I did not behave myself."

"No, you didn't did you?"
teased Jamie, looking up at her lover with eyes sparkling. Gunnul smiled and
raised an eyebrow. There was time yet before they needed to get ready to go
to the museum.

It was sometime later that Gunnul
once again slipped from their bed and padded back with coffee, rolls, white
cheese and olives. It had taken Jamie a while to acquire a taste for this traditional
Turkish breakfast but now she quite enjoyed it. "You spoil me, Gunnul!"
protested Jamie, pulling herself up in bed and trying to hide the pain that
her cripple leg inflicted.

"I could tell, when we made
love, that today your leg hurts far more than you have admitted," answered
Gunnul, kissing Jamie's temple gently.

"Hmmmm, a little, but it
will be better once I move around a bit." She leaned over to slip a black
olive into Gunnul's mouth, then followed the treat with a kiss. Jamie thought,
sometimes, that her twisted leg hurt Gunnul far more than it did her. Knowing
that it was her own brother, Moe, that had caused the injury made her lover
feel responsible. 'I am head of the family, Jamie. That means I am ultimately
responsible for every family member's actions,' Gunnul had explained once.

So whenever Jamie saw that Gunnul
was upset, she made a special effort to show her love. Gunnul was so strong
and capable in many ways and yet insecure and fragile in her need to feel loved.
"What do you have planned for us today?" Jamie asked.

"I had planned to take you
and Christy to the British Museum," Gunnul stated. "Now I am not sure.
It is a huge complex, Jamie. Four hundred feet long and three stories high and
yet they can only display ten per cent of all the treasures that the British
stole from other nations. It is a pilgrimage to go to the museum because it
has some of the best examples of other nations' heritage."

Jamie smiled at Gunnul's bias
explanation, filled with both bitterness and awe. "I thought it was Germany
that took most of the treasures from Turkey," Jamie reminded quietly.

"That is true. Schliemann,
he took so much from Troy! And some say, Jamie, that he was not even an honourable
academic!"

Jamie's eyes twinkled at her
serious lover's discussion. She loved it when Gunnul got all worked up about
an issue and let her guard down to show the passionate woman behind the often
cold exterior. It was time to swallow her own determined pride to give her Gunnul
some comfort. "I don't think that on even a good day, Gunnul, I could manage
a museum of that size. Would you mind terrible if I asked you to take me around
in a wheelchair?"

Intelligent blue eyes, the colour
of a summer sky, search her lover's face. Then Gunnul took the breakfast plate
from Jamie's hand and placed it on the bedside table so that she could carefully
pull her lover into her arms. Gunnul buried her face into Jamie's soft hair.
It always carried a scent of herbs, drying on a warm summer's day. The scent
was familiar, like some trace memory from her past that brought her comfort.
"You have never asked this before, Jamie."

"I've never had to do so
much walking as I will while we are in England. And I have learned to trust
our love and know that my lameness does not make you feel that I am a burden
in your life."

"Jamie! I would never feel
that!" Gunnul protested.

"You are beautiful, rich,
powerful, you could have anyone you want for a partner. That you chose a lame,
working widow from a foreign country shocked and surprised nearly everyone that
knew you. It took me a little while to believe that it wasn't just a dream and
that I was going to be part of my daughter's life and your partner."

"You are so much more than
that to me, Jamie. You are my soulmate!" responded the earnest Turk.

"Yes, we are soulmates,"
reassured Jamie. "Will you wheel me about?"

"Of course, this is no problem.
This way we can stay longer and we can instruct Christy in many things that
will broaden her learning and knowledge."

Jamie smiled and snuggled tighter
into Gunnul's arms. Gunnul was such a sweety and so impossibly focused!

By the time they had got Christy
up and the three of them had showered and dressed, Teefo and his wife Peeti
had arrived at the small flat that Gunnul owned in London. Teefu was General
Gunnul Dedeman's administrative assistant and general man of all trades. He
was very loyal to the Turkish war hero and was one of the few people that Gunnul
trusted completely.

That he was here with his wife
as a chaperon for Christy had caused some tension between Jamie and Gunnul.
"I will not have our daughter treated as an object that must be protected
so that she is marketable goods in some prearranged marriage!" Jamie had
snapped. "We have argued about this before, Gunnul. Christy will be free
to have equal opportunities and to chose her own partner!"

"I have agreed that I would
never force Christy to marry anyone she did not wish to marry. I see no harm,
however, in introducing her to the man and family that I think are the most
suitable match for her. A decision as important as one's life partner should
not be left to chance! It is important that no doubt falls on Christy's reputation."

"I found you by chance,"
argued Jamie, "I don't want Christy feeling like she is under guard!"

"I am very lucky that you
came into my life but for many, their relationships are not as lucky. Christy
must be guarded. She is the sole heir of the Dedeman Empire and the daughter
of a woman who lives in a man's world in defiance of my traditional culture.
The growing power of the Moslem traditionalists makes that position open to
attack."

"You single-handedly saved
the nation from invasion! You are a hero to your people! They are very grateful
for your sacrifice on their behalf!"

"Fanatics are grateful to
no one. We must be careful. England is a foreign land and Christy must be protected!"
stated Gunnul firmly. Jamie had sighed and nodded her consent. Gunnul was right,
of course, Christy was not just another child. She had been born into a family
of fame, wealth and power. Still, Jamie harboured some resentment because she
suspected that one of the concerns that Gunnul had diplomatically not expressed
was that they were going to a land that Gunnul saw as decadent infidels. There
was, below Gunnul's veneer of international lifestyle a very traditional Turkish
mind.

Right on opening time, the Dedemans
and their entourage arrived at the British Museum. The 1852 colonnaded facade
in a Greek architectural tradition towered over them as they entered through
the doorway into the marble floored lobby. Ahead of them was the famous Reading
Room crowned by its 110 foot dome. Floor to ceiling glass fronted doors protected
eighteen million books, the largest collection in the world. The circular room
had concentrical rings of oak desks with straight wood chairs with cushioned
seats of green leather. The air held the faint sweet scent of leather bindings
and rag paper.

"Many famous scholars have
worked and studied in these rooms, Christy," Gunnul explained in a whisper
as they stood looking in. "In fact, it was in the Reading Room of the British
Museum that Karl Marx wrote the Communist Manifesto."

"It has a wonderful atmosphere,
Mommy," Christy sighed. She liked books very much. It was the one thing
that her natural and adopted mothers never put a restriction on. Christy was
allowed as many books as she wanted.

"I am glad we got to see
it before it is moved. This space is to become an educational area for the museum
and the books are all being moved to a new facility in St. Pancras. That's good,
Christy, because there will be more room for the books and the environmental
controls will help to preserve the books longer but it is always a shame to
see the end of a bit of history," Jamie commented. Christy nodded. She
was a sensitive girl and the moving of the books seemed sad to her.

"It is that things do not
last forever that make them precious to us," observed the ever practical
Gunnul. "I do not approve of rebuilding ruins or repairing them with cement.
They should be allowed to die with dignity and we should appreciate not only
their history but also their aging."

Christy smiled up at her taller
mother, with respect and love. Gunnul petted Christy's hair and then took Jamie's
arm that was not supported in her metal walking stick. "We need to go up
these stairs to get to the area that displays the manuscripts and books. I will
leave you there to look around as I need to see to a small matter and also,
Jamie, I will get you a wheelchair," Gunnul organized, as she helped her
soulmate up the stairs to the manuscript gallery.

Here a collection of works by
some of the most famous authors of the English language could be found. As well,
there were Egyptian papyri, Greek and Roman texts and letters from famous writers
and musicians along with many amazing selections from other cultures' written
history too. In the Grenville Gallery, Jamie and Christy found the oldest known
Bible written in Greek, the Codex Sinaiticus and Alexandrinus and in another
case the original Magna Carta! Jamie carefully answered Christy's questions
as they walked around in wonder.

A respectful distance behind,
Teefo and Peeti walked, also enjoying the many wonders of the famous museum.
Jamie had found this arrangement awkward at first when they were out in public.
She felt that she was slighting Teefo by ignoring him. But Teefo had explained
that it made it easier for him to do his job in protecting them when he was
following behind and could observe better who was around. Still, Jamie included
Teefo and Peeti when she could.

Jamie left Christy showing Teefo
and Peeti illustations from famous children's books and limped over to look
into a case that contained early Greek manuscripts. The case seemed to draw
her to it and she needed to know what it contained. The Greek manuscripts within
were old and beautifully written and illustrated.

One caught her eye and held her
gaze. It was a small illustration of flames rising from a stone alter. As Jamie
stared, the flames lifted from the page and curled like fingers around her.
Even as her conscious mind denied what she saw, her heart pounded in fear and
her senses felt scaly, red hot talons curling around her arms. She could feel
herself being dragged back into the illustration. A gasp escaped her parched
lips and far away she could hear Gunnul calling her name in fear.

Gunnul had entered the gallery
pushing the wheelchair to see Jamie leaning over a display case, her face white
and distorted with terror. Calling her lover's name, she had rushed to Jamie's
side and wrapped her in her arms. "I've got you, Jamie. It is okay. I've
got you!" Gunnul whispered.

Teefo, Peeti and Christy now
crowded around in worry. "What happened?!" Gunnul demanded of her
assistant, her eyes burning with anger.

"I do not know, General
Dedeman. She only just left our side while Christy showed us some Beatrix Potter
illustrations. No one else has entered this gallery, I was watching," Teefo
explained.

Gunnul nodded, satisfied that
Jamie had not been attacked. Then what had happened? "Jamie? Jamie, are
you all right?" the Turkish woman asked, gently supporting her lover as
Jamie clung to her in fright.

"I...I'm fine now. I...I'm
sorry. I don't know what came over me! I...I felt ...it's hard...I'm okay really!"
Jamie finished in a confused rush, as Gunnul carefully lowered her into the
wheelchair that Christy had run to bring over. "I just fainted. Silly.
I'm fine now. It was probably just a reaction to the time change...a little
jet lag," Jamie tried to justify, looking at the circle of worried faces
around her.

"It's okay, Mommy. I fainted
once when I was out in the heat too long. Do you feel sick to your stomach?
I did," Christy reassured, holding her mother's hand.

Jamie smiled up at Christy and
gave her daughter's hand an affectionate squeeze. "No, I feel fine now.
It was just one of those passing things. I wonder where Gunnul has been and
what she has been preparing for us?" Jamie asked, trying to change the
subject.

"Perhaps it would be better
if we go back to the flat," Gunnul stated, feeling Jamie's cold and clammy
forehead with worry.

"No! I am fine. Please,
Gunnul, I have my wheelchair now and you can push me around so I can relax and
still see all there is to see!" argued Jamie, embarrassment now colouring
her face.

Gunnul nodded, realizing that
Jamie was determined. "Very well. But you must tell me immediately, Jamie,
if you start to feel ill again."

"I will, Gunnul," Jamie
promised, as she was wheeled from the room at the head of their little possession.
She stubbornly refused to look back at the case that contained the terrifying
illustration even though she could feel it calling to her.

They went on to explore the halls
of armour and weaponry and Gunnul remarked on how impractical the knights' heavy
armour was. The knights would have to be lifted by cranes onto their mounts
and when they fell off in battle they couldn't get up again. Christy and Jamie
started to laugh, imagining helpless knights, arms and legs flailing like turtles
stranded on their backs.

Jamie's fainting spell forgotten,
they went on to investigate three million year old stone age tools from Africa,
priceless porcelain and sculptures from the Far East, hand woven rugs from ancient
Persia, stone and gold figurines from the Middle East and countless other treasures,
including the famous Rosetta Stone.

They sat in a small courtyard
and ate a picnic lunch that Peeti had prepared and quietly said their noon prayers.
Then they followed a scholar to the room that contained the Elgin Marbles as
well as a full size and complete Greek temple that Lord Elgin had simply packed
up and brought back to England! The speaker stood on a box and told the small
crowd that formed about how the Elgin marbles had been the sculptures on the
frieze of the Parthenon in Athens. The temple, he explained, had been complete
until the 1600's when invading Turks had used the Parthenon to store gun powder.
Lightening had hit the temple during a storm and the roof had been blown off.

Jamie and Christy looked at Gunnul
in mock annoyance and the Turkish general shrugged and grinned sheepishly.But when the lecturer had finished by laughingly remarking that the Greek
government kept asking for the Marbles and temple back but the museum was pretending
not to hear, Jamie had to grab Gunnul's arm to prevent her from talking to the
man about the robber of antiquities from other nations by the Europeans, particularly
the English, French and Germans.

At the end of their tour of the
museum, Teefo and Peeti took the rented wheelchair back while Gunnul led her
family to a small room not normally open to the public. There they put on white
gloves and sat at a table covered with green felt and waited for her friend
a Turkish-born curator to bring out a special treasure for them to see. It was
the great book of the Lindisfarne Gospels! With care the curator laid the book
on the table and used a flat wand to turn the pages while Gunnul explained.

"We must be very careful
not to touch the pages or breathe too close to them. The oils in our hands could
damage the colours and stain the parchment. I wanted you to have this experience
because it explains why I feel bringing you here is like a pilgrimage. Being
this close to an ancient work of art and sacred book is a spiritual experience."

The curator's eyes shone with
understanding and pride at Gunnul's words. He turned to the first illustration
and explained to the three women: "The Gospels were done in the Hiberno-Saxon
style by Irish monks in Saxon England. Their monasteries were isolated specks
of Christianity clinging to the edges of a pagan dark age. Their devotion to
their faith, gave them the strength to stubbornly hold on to the ancient knowledge
of Greece and Rome against a savage world.

"Those that study these
manuscripts will tell you that there are complex rules of order in the illustrations
that are superimposed one on top of the other. For example, organic and geometric
forms are never put together. In the areas where there are animals, all the
interweaving lines go out so that they become part of the animals' body. On
top of these basic rules, there are rules for patterns of symmetry, flipped
images, knots, colour and even texture."

The curator turned to the most
famous illustration of "The Cross". Jamie had found a dread creeping
over her again as she looked at the gold images of pagan monsters and serpents
interwoven into the borders. But the last illustration seemed to chase the fear
from her heart and replace it with a feeling of warmth and contentment. She
stared at the complexity of patterns that seemed almost musical in their harmony
of line and colour. The miniature patterns were worthy of a Tiffany jeweller.
Geometric animals and plants interwove in complex patterns as faith brought
order to chaotic and pagan images.

Gunnul took her daughter's and
partner's hands in her own. "Many of the scribes couldn't read or write,
but for thirty or forty years, they would get up at dawn and sit on hard wooden
benches in damp stone monasteries and copy the sacred symbols faithfully. A
life time given to copy out one Bible by hand that they would never read. They
loved their God so much that they decorated each page with the most incredible
art work to glorify his name.

"To me this book represents
all that is truly great about humanity. It is a work of art, of devotion, duty
and love. I'm sure the scribes who wrote this Bible must have wondered what
their humble lives meant to this world. They were illiterate nobodies who would
die and be buried without family in nameless graves. And yet a thousand years
later, what they did is treasured as a moment of human genius. Every life has
meaning, Christy, and every life impacts. We just rarely get the opportunity
to see how. This museum is filled with such treasures. When you are a leader,
you must remember always that every individual has worth."

Christy nodded seriously, taking
in everything that Gunnul said as she watched the curator carry the magnificent
book away. Jamie smiled softly at her lover with eyes filled with love and pride.
Gunnul saw the look and blushed.

"But Mommy, in our faith
we are taught that it is vain and arrogant for man to try to create images of
Allah's creations. That is why all our art work is geometric designs. Yet in
this Bible and others I have seen man and animals are represented."

"That is true, Christy,
but each person must worship God as they feel they ought. In the past, the Christians
and Moslems have had terrible wars trying to prove their faiths were better.
It was wrong to do so; only God can judge our soul's worth. We share the same
holy books, a common history of belief and even the same God. We should never
have been enemies."

The three thanked the curator
for letting them see the holy book and walked out to join Teefo and Peeti. Jamie
gave her crutch to Christy to carry and leaned on Gunnul for support instead,
as she limped along. "That was beautiful what you said to Christy, Gunnul.
You are a marvelous mother. I am so lucky you were there to raise my daughter
after Moe kidnaped her from me."

"I try to train her as my
father trained me. I want her to grow up to be a wise and kind leader but I
also want her to be confident and happy. I am glad that you came into our lives.
I do not always agree with your American attitudes but I think you bring that
confidence and happiness into Christy's life that I could not. I know you have
made me happy. I was not whole until I met you," Gunnul answered, in her
honest and straight forward way.

Jamie smiled up at Gunnul and
squeezed her lover's arm. She knew she too had not been complete until she had
met Gunnul. Now the three of them were a family and they shared a very special
love.

***

The same day that the Dedeman's
had arrived in London, Robbie Williams was also at the airport. Robbie Williams
bounced on her heels the way she did when trying to be patient. The film producer
and actor was not by nature a patient person. Her genius and her temper were
legendary in the film business. It was not business, however, that had brought
Robbie to Heathrow Airport near London this day. She was here instead to meet
her family; her partner and wife Janet Williams and their two daughters Ryan
and Rebecca.

Robbie had been in England for
three weeks, checking and approving the sights that the scouts had chosen for
consideration for her new film. Now her family was joining her and she could
hardly wait. She had missed them terribly. That feeling always surprised and
scared her a little. It made her feel very vulnerable. All her life she had
remained aloof, taking what pleasure she could from casual relationships and
maintaining high walls between her heart and soul and the rest of the world.
Then, Janet, her brother's widow had shown up, and her walls crumbled one after
another. Robbie smiled from under the sloppy hat that she had pulled down to
help hide her identity from fans. Who would have thought it! Me, an old
married woman with a family! That thought filled her with a warmth that
spread all the way to her toes.

Her amazing blue eyes, hidden
behind thick framed glasses, flicked up to check the over head arrival screens.
The plane was on time and due in about five minutes. Robbie had spent a lot
of time at airports over the years and hated it. Her restless, active personality
did nor handle down time well. Still, she had to admit if there was an airport
to love it would be Heathrow. It was nothing special to look at really, just
an airport like any other. A bit worn and dirty due to the thousands of people
who passed through the doors every day, and filled with over tired, over stressed
humanity.

Yet, Heathrow had a personality
that was unique. It reminded Robbie of the line in the original Star Wars movie
were the Jedi Knight, Obi Wan, tells Luke Skywalker that all the best pilots
of the galaxy could be found at sometime at the Mos Eisley Spaceport. That was
Heathrow. All international flights to and from the Americas to Europe and the
Far East had to funnel through this one single place. Being here was as close
as a human could get to feeling like a time traveler.

Your attention, please.
This is the last call for flight 329 to Nairobi, Kenya.

Robbie wondered how many Heads
of State had walked through these gates, how many spies, soldiers, tourists,
billionaire Sheiks, refugees, terrorists...her mind saw their stories as promos
for films. Her intelligent eyes recorded details that would become part of her
director's arsenal of ideas.

Passenger Mr. Rada Singh,
on route to New Delhi, India, please report to the information desk.

Robbie watched a haggard looking
man stepping up to place his order at a fast food stand. His wife and children
stood off to the side, leaving the male of the house to bring back the fatted
mastodon on a bun. Robbie's mouth took on a sneer; she had no patience for those
who maintained traditional roles. Not that she supported any woman's liberation
organizations either. Freedom to live her life as she wanted was something that
the confident, rich and powerful woman took for granted.

Flight 976 to Bangkok,
Thailand will be delayed...

Even the MacDonald's counter
had been infected by the spirit of internationalism, Robbie noted, as her eyes
traveled down the posted menu. They offered such treats as MacCurries and MacLamb
burgers! The smile returned to Robbie's lips and she moved closer to the gate
where she knew her family would be appearing at any minute.

***

The 747 touched down and the
roar of the braking systems filled the cabin. Janet sighed. Thank God they were
here. It wasn't that she minded flying; she didn't - but flying with a three
year old and a bored teenager was right up there with suicide missions! Not
that Ryan wasn't a pretty special kid. She had really been wonderful in the
way she had worked to be part of their family unit. It must have been very hard
for her, having been raised by a series of nannies or in boarding schools. She
didn't have a very good idea about what family life was like anymore than her
famous mother, Robbie Williams, did. Yet she had taken on the challenge with
a focused and determined attitude so typical of the Williams family.

Janet instinctively reached over
and brushed Ryan's bangs into place. Ryan smiled back, relief that the long
flight was over written on her face. "It won't be long now, Ryan. Your
mom will be there waiting," reassured Janet. "We just need to get
wiggle bum here through customs and pick up our bags." Janet grabbed the
hand of her fearless baby daughter and held on tight to prevent the three year
old from running to the open hatch, while Ryan got their hand luggage down from
the over-head compartments.

Janet frowned and gave herself
a mental shake. That feeling of foreboding had suddenly swept over her again.
It was silly. There was no reason to feel any anxiety. Here she was visiting
a country that she had always wanted to see and meeting up with Robbie, whom
she had missed so much! It was silly to feel any apprehension. Maybe I'm
just over-tired, she thought, as they now stood in line waiting for their
customs clearance. As always, Robbie had dreamed the impossible and then made
it happen just by the force of her personality and will alone. With Janet working
at her side, they had put into motion the construction of a state of the art
school and studio in film and animation. It was a tremendous achievement but
one that had really stretched their endurance.

Janet smiled, as they now waited
for their bags to dropped down onto the baggage carousel. Well, it had taxed
Janet's endurance. Robbie, as always, had any number of irons in the fire. She
had planted the seeds for her school and then left Janet and Gwen in charge
while she worked with Brian on the planning sessions for the new motion picture
that they hoped to start filming this fall. For the last three weeks, Robbie
had been in England seeing to the final details.

"No! Reb!" Janet screamed,
snapping out of her thoughts, as she saw her daughter crawl up onto the metal
baggage carousel while her big sister was busy lifting one of their bags off.
Reb, giggling with delight, sat down between the bags and spun away past the
row of startled passengers patiently waiting for their luggage to appear. "Reb!"
called Janet in fear, as she envisioned a heavy piece of luggage dropping down
on her adventurous daughter. Two long , strong arms reached out and lifted the
child out of harm's way and as Janet battled her way through the crowd she heard
Reb squeal, "Obby!"

Obby was Reb's pet name for her
adopted mother and aunt, Robbie Williams. What was Robbie doing down here? Janet
pushed through the crowds to see a tall, beautiful woman standing holding a
rather startled looking Reb. The woman did look a lot like her Obby. The same
build and graceful cat like movement and the same dark hair and brilliant blue
eyes. The features were stronger, however, and the skin the golden tan of the
Arabic people.

"Oh, I'm sorry, she got
away from me! Thank you for saving her," Janet said, reaching up to take
the confused child from the stranger's arms.

"I thought it was my Obby,
mommy," the small child explained.

"I know, sweety," Janet
reassured Reb. She and Robbie had needed to give Reb a talk about not going
with strangers a few months ago. Reb had grown up in a town where everyone knew
her and was a friend. As a result, she was a little too trusting and friendly.
Since the talk, Reb felt the need to justify her actions every time she went
ahead and talked to strangers anyway!

"That is all right. I remember
when my Christy was that age, she too was such a handful," responded the
exotic woman with a twinkle in her eye.

Janet smiled back, liking the
woman instantly. "Well, thank you again. Reb, say thank you and good bye
to the lady who helped you."

"Thank you. And good bye."

The tall woman smiled and responded
formally. "You are very welcome, Little One." Then Janet hurried to
join Ryan with the cart loaded with their bags and they headed for the exit.

Robbie was there and wrapped
Ryan in her arms for a big hug before scooping Reb up and kissing her and depositing
the child in Ryan's arms so that she could wrap Janet in a bear hug. "I
have missed you so much!" she whispered into the small blond's ear.

"Mmmmm, I missed you too,"
Janet confessed, as she satisfied herself for the time being by dropping a tender
kiss on the tall woman's temple. Robbie smiled down at her, her eyes soft with
love and pride.

"Come on then, let's get
back to the hotel and settle in," suggested Robbie happily, as she took
command of the baggage and led her family towards the exit that would lead to
where she had parked their car.

All bags left unattended
will be removed by security and destroyed...

***

After Robbie had got her family
settled in the hotel and they'd had a decent meal and rest, she gave into Reb's
demands.

It seemed that Ryan had alleviated
her boredom on the plane by convincing Reb that the one thing that she had to
see in England was the Bloody Tower. The bulk of Reb's conversation since she
had arrived had been "Obby, take me to the Bloody Tower!" What
was it with my daughters and swear words anyway! Robbie wondered good-naturedly,
as she swung the small child into the cab beside Ryan, who was trying her best
to look innocent.

Robbie, who had been to England
on many occasions, found that being a tour guide for her family was fun. They
walked along the Victoria Embankment beside the river Thames while Robbie lectured.
"The Tower of London...

"Bloody Tower!" protested
Reb loudly.

Robbie knelt down beside her
littlest, daughter having given her oldest daughter a stern look first. Ryan
smiled wickedly and Janet rolled her eyes. "Reb," explained Robbie,
"the right name for the place is the Tower of London, okay? We don't use
the other name."

"Ryan does!"

"Ryan isn't going to anymore!"
stated Robbie firmly, looking up at her teenage daughter with a raised eyebrow.
Ryan smiled and shrugged.

Robbie got up and took Reb's
hand again. They started walking once more towards the main gate of the Tower
of London. "The Tower was originally built by William the Conqueror in
1066 as a fortress but over time it has served as a royal residence and a garrison.
The Captain of the Tower was the commander of London's defense forces. But it
has gone down in history as one of the most infamous prisons in the world! The
guards here are called Beef Eaters. No one is sure why. Their jobs have been
passed down through their families for generations. One of their jobs is looking
after the huge black ravens that are always around the Tower." Robbie squatted
down and pointed for Reb to see. "There is one over there on the grassy
bank. Legend has it, that if the ravens ever leave, England will fall."

"I like that," muttered
Janet. "I must make a note of it." Robbie smiled at her wife. She
was well aware of Janet's love of mythology. Janet knew lots of the myths of
the Eastern Woodland Indians and she had been doing a lot of reading on Celtic
myths since she knew she would be visiting England.

They paid the entrance fee and
had their bags checked by security. Then they wandered into the courtyard. "The
Tower has had many famous prisoners. Some survived to tell the tale such as
Elizabeth I, who went on to rule Britain. Others, such as Charles I, Thomas
More, Anne Boleyn, Katherine Howard, Lady Jane Grey, and William Penn died here,"
Robbie explained ghoulishly. "Most of them were beheaded over there on
that little patch of stone. If you were a commoner they used an axe but if you
were royalty they used a sword."

"Nice touch!" smirked
Ryan.

Robbie raised a warning eyebrow
in fun and Janet and Ryan laughed. "Don't encourage her!" Robbie ordered
Janet with a smile. "As I was saying, the last prisoner to stay here was
Rudolf Hess, one of the Nazi leaders."

They looked around the various
towers and rooms checking for ghosts then Robbie took them to view the crown
jewels. As they stood on the moving walkway, Robbie explained. "Queen Elizabeth
II is the third richest woman in the world. These jewels are owed by the Crown
and the State," Robbie explained. She pointed into a case. "That's
the Star of Africa. It's the largest diamond ever cut in the world. It weighs
530 carats! See the Imperial Crown? It's the one you see the monarch wear at
the coronation. It has 3,000 diamonds alone in the setting! And the Crown of
India over here has a 34 carat emerald in the centre and 6,000 diamonds around
it! Not a bad jewelry collection, huh?!"

The Williams played tourist looking
into the cases that protected and luminated the spectacular collection. "Boy!
I bet they have an army protecting that stuff !" Ryan commented.

Robbie shrugged. "I asked
once and they said no. That when the Queen needs one of the crowns they just
stick it in a cardboard box and run it over to the palace in a truck. They said
a large guard and armored vehicle would just be a sign that the jewels were
being moved. Delivery trucks come and go from here all the time so no one would
be the wiser!"

"The British understatement,
at its best!" laughed Janet.

***

The Williams hailed a cab and
headed back to the hotel. Janet and Robbie worked together to get Reb fed, washed,
changed and into bed for a bed time story. When Janet went back to the connecting
room she was sharing with Robbie to shower, the actor started negotiations with
Ryan who had been lying on the other bed reading a book..

"How much?" asked Robbie,
leaning against the wall with her arms crossed and one eye brow up.

Ryan smiled evilly as she book-marked
her spot and tossed the novel on the table between the two beds.. "Fifty
dollars an hour plus the use of your laptop. I want to e-mail some friends back
home."

"Fifty dollars! That's robbery!"
growled Robbie.

"Nope, that's supply and
demand and the free enterprise system. You haven't seen Mom in three weeks and
are desperate for some time alone with her and I'm the only available babysitter.
Besides, I'm saving for a car," responded Ryan, getting up and unconsciously
folding her arms like her mother.

"What ever happened to love
and family support," grumbled Robbie, pushing off from the wall to shake
Ryan's hand and seal the deal.

"Tomorrow, we can be a loving,
caring family. Tonight, you are paying through the nose for a little private
time with my other Mom," smiled Ryan, with a grin. "And I won't even
charge you extra for reassuring Aunt Janet that I'm perfectly happy to babysit
Reb while I e-mail my friends," responded Ryan, shaking her Mom's hand.

"You are a shark!"

"Takes one to know one!"
laughed Ryan. "You and Aunt Janet have a good time!"

Robbie gave her daughter a hug.
"Sure you don't mind?"

"Not at all," Ryan
reassured her.

***

Janet struggled to escape the
flames. They surrounded her and held her tight in a burning grasp. She opened
her mouth to scream for help but nothing came out as she gagged on smoke and
flame. With superhuman effort she forced herself up and woke with a start to
see that she had fallen asleep in the tub and slipped down until she had taken
in a mouthful of water. The bathroom was steamy and hot.

She struggled out and wrapped
a towel around her as she fumbled at the door handle to get out. Back in the
bedroom, the air felt chilled and fresh. Janet closed the door to the bathroom
and leaned against it, her heart pounding still in fear. That had to be the
worst nightmare that she'd had in a long time! Maybe the worst! Slowly,
the fear dissipated and was replaced again with a heavy feeling of dread. Janet
shivered and then pushed the feeling away. It must be some chemical imbalance
her body was experiencing. It was nothing more than a stupid mood swing. She
must be over tired. A few weeks visiting Robbie here in England and she would
be feeling like herself again.

"Are you alright?"
asked Robbie, coming back into the hotel room she was sharing with her soulmate.
Janet stood wrapped in a bath towel, leaning against the bathroom door, white
and shaky.

"I'm.... yes, I'm fine,"
responded Janet, leaning into Robbie's outstretched arms. "I fell asleep
in the bath tub and had the worst nightmare! It's probably jet lag. I'm fine.
Hmmmmm, it is so nice to be back with you!"

Robbie bent and picked Janet
up in her arms and carried her over to the bed. It never ceased to amaze Janet
just how strong Robbie was. Her lover lay her down on the bed and bented over
her to nuzzle at the soft, warm skin below her jaw line.

"S'okay, I've bribed Ryan
to babysit for the evening," muttered Robbie, as she lowered her lean form
over Janet's now naked body.

"Ohhh, you're good, very,
very good," moaned Janet, as she arched into the touch of her soulmate's
lips on her nipples. Robbie's hands drifted along the lines and curves of her
lover's body, as the two of them felt the rhythmic need building with each touch.
Janet's hands slid down her lover's form and unfastened the actor's shirt and
bra . Robbie groaned and arched back, allowing Janet to lean up and suck on
the actor's waiting breasts. Need rose to passion and all else was forgotten.

Sometime later, Janet and Robbie
dressed and called for one of the quaint London cabs. "I'm taking you to
visit my girl friend," Robbie had teased her love sated partner. Janet
had looked up at Robbie with wide eyes and arched eyebrows but Robbie had just
laughed and tucked her soulmate into the cab. In the late afternoon light, they
drove down towards the Thames and got out near Westminster, asking the driver
to wait.

Robbie grinned with excitement.
"This way, Janet, down here. This gold statue of a chariot pulled by two
horses and driven by a woman with bare breasts is to honour Queen Boadicea of
the Iceni. In 61 A.D., she and her two daughters led an attack that defeated
the Romans. She burnt the Roman town of London to the ground!

"They say she was six feet
tall, when most men of the time were much shorter, and she had flaming red hair.
For almost two thousand years, her name has remained a legend. Bold, strong
of character and loyal, she represents to me what all women should strive to
be. Whenever, I am in London, I come and visit her and pay my respects."

Janet laughed and looked from
Robbie's animated face to the monument of the daring and brave woman. "I
can see why you would want her as your girl friend, Robbie. She is definitely
your type! Maybe in another life you knew her!"

Robbie laughed and took Janet's
arm to lead her back to the cab. "If I did, I'm sure we were on opposite
sides. I'd probably be supporting Rome in the conquest of the known world!"

Janet looked up at her lover
thoughtfully. "No, you'd get bored with that quickly and be out there fighting
for the under dog. That's why you identify with Queen Boadicea. She stood up
to the might of Rome and won."

"Maybe," Robbie conceded,
but she wasn't so sure she was as honourable a character as Janet liked to believe.
She slipped into the cab beside Janet and looked back at Boadicea the bronze
charioteer charging forever into battle. For a second, she could smell the dust
and leather, hear the flags cracking in the wind and the scraping of swords
as they were drawn from their scabbards. She smiled, winked at the statue and
ordered the driver to take them to St. Catherine's Gate.

There they walked, arms linked,
past Tower Bridge and the Tower of London. Janet caught Robbie up on all the
news from home and Robbie shared with Janet some of her plans for the filming
of Harold: King of England.

Later, they returned to have
dinner at the Charles Dicken's Pub by a window that over looked the Pool of
London. They looked out at the famous galleons the Cutty Sark and the Golden
Hind and through their rigging watched the sun set, turning the harbour water
into a golden strip. They shared a bottle of Mouton Cadet de Rothchild over
a meal of venison and wild truffles, then sauntered around the dock to look
more closely at the historical vessels and recreational boats that were moored
there before taking a cab back to their hotel room. Their love making this time,
was tender, familiar and long.

***

After Teefo and Peeti had left,
Gunnul had insisted on going out with Christy to bring back curry from the corner
shop for dinner rather than having Jamie cook. Jamie was instructed to rest
while they were out but she sat in the window instead that looked over Russell
Square and the Bloomsbury area which had once been the home of Virginia Wolf
and her artistic friends.

Gunnul's London flat was small,
yet Jamie was aware because she worked so closely with Gunnul on her accounts
that the one bedroom, third story walk up, with the roof patio was worth over
a million and a half dollars. London property was some of the most expensive
in the world. Of course, the apartment had been designed and decorated professionally
and the kitchen was by Smallbones! Jamie hoped she got a change to use the kitchen
before they left London. Gunnul was clearly worried about what had happened
at the museum today. Knowing how close they had come to losing Christy to some
mysterious illness, Gunnul was feeling more than her usual over-protectiveness.

Jamie frowned. She would have
to explain to Gunnul what happened this morning when she looked at that illustration
and the strange feelings of dread that she had been experiencing. She wasn't
sure that the ever practical and logical Turk was going to understand. Jamie
sighed and picked up her latest book on Celtic religion that she had been studying.
She had developed quite an interest in the ancient faith and was looking forward
to visiting some of the sites on Salisbury Plain including Stone Henge.

She read quietly until she smelt
the hot tangy scent of curry and heard the laughter of her family as they raced
up the stairs. They ate informally on the living-room rug watching a video that
Gunnul had deemed appropriate for Christy to watch. Then they played scrabble
until Jamie said it was time for Christy to go to bed. Gunnul and Jamie sat
quietly, working on the last of the business contracts that had brought Gunnul
to London. Then, when Christy was asleep on the sofa bed, Gunnul helped Jamie
up the steep stairs that led to the roof garden.

There, softened by the evening
light, was London. Below them to the right was the British Museum. Farther along
Oxford was Baker Street, where the legendary Holmes was supposed to have lived.
To the south of Bloomsbury was the Soho area and Covent Garden. Big Ben chimed
the hour over the Thames. The dirt of the city was mellowed by the yellow street
lights slipping London back into its nineteenth century elegance. It was a Mary
Poppins world up there, of Romanesque chimney pots, push bikes leaning against
dust bins in back alleys, London cabs bustling down tree lined streets and singing
drifting up from a local pub. Samuel Johnson once wrote that to be tired of
London was to be tired of life.

Gunnul stood behind Jamie who
was nestled deep in her arms and let her lover soak up the magic of the city
before she spoke. "What happened today, Jamie? Were you ill?"

Jamie stiffened a little in Gunnul's
arms, then relaxed, knowing that she couldn't be in a more secure place. "No,
I wasn't sick, Gunnul, I was terrified. I saw this illustration in a manuscript
of a fire rising from a stone altar and suddenly I had this vision."

"Vision, Jamie?"

"Yes. The flames reached
out to me with hot talons that wrapped around my arms and pulled me towards
them. I could feel it, smell it...."

"Shhhh, do not talk of it
if it upsets you," soothed Gunnul, holding Jamie close in her arms.

"Since we arrived, I've
been getting these moments of foreboding, dread...I put it down to jet lag and
being tired but today really scared me. Do you believe me, Gunnul?"

For a moment there was silence
as Gunnul pondered the question in her logical way. "I do not believe that
a picture can pull you into its flames but I do accept that you had a vision
that seemed very real to you. There was a time that I would have told you it
was silliness but I have felt the power of the grave and I have seen how the
visions from the grave visit our daughter and give her sight. I do not understand
but I know it has happened."

"I thought all the trouble
with the grave was over, that our ancestors had found their way back to loving
each other. Do you think the vision was a warning?"

"Maybe, maybe not. At the
airport, Jamie, while I waited for our bags with Teefo, I saw one of the Others.
One of your lineage, Jamie with a child that carried the same traits as myself.
It was not one we have met before."

"Then it is not over! Oh
Gunnul, I'm worried!"

"Don't be, Jamie. Everything
will be fine. The past can not hurt us," Gunnul reassured, kissing the
top of Jamie's head. They stood there for a long time watching the lights of
London. Less than a mile away, Robbie walked with Janet along the waterfront
and Boadicea stood frozen on the edge of battle.

Evil is a seed that lies within
all of us. Like a desert plant, it can lay dormant for years or even a life
time until such time as its genetic code is activated and then it grows quickly,
madly and completely out of proportion. We all sense it within us, that minute
kernel of evil. It is what compels us to set down laws of social behaviour and
dire consequences for those who break them. It sends us seeking a god that will
protect us from our wrong doings. Yet in the end, we execute the murderer, kill
in our god's name and evil laughs in triumph.

Even the power of the wind let
loose on the plain howled around the massive ancient stones in terror. They
stood like sentries guarding a lost secret. Neither good nor bad, they were
the silent Watchers though time. The price of neutrality is indifference. The
Watchers were cold stone without feeling.

The ring of massive stones capped
by lintels weighing tonnes casts shadows that could be read by believers as
clearly as a scientific instrument. Summer solstice was not far off. The setting
sun's rays knifed through the arches and cut a jagged line across the wind tossed
grass, barely missing the heel stone.

The darkness nearby shifted and
shadow became a well of blackness far denser than the night. A scaly hand reached
up from out of the ground and talons dug into Mother Earth. The figure heaved
its massive bulk up out of the timeless void in which it had disappeared so
long ago and stood by the ruined altar within the skeleton of the fallen temple.

A voice, harsh and forced with
lack of use, rumbled a promise to the ring of Watchers. "I will revenge!"